


Turn the Page

by HermioneSpencer



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: But im slowly crawling my way back into this fandom, F/F, don't expect much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 16:29:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9557213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermioneSpencer/pseuds/HermioneSpencer
Summary: Cosima steals.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SaveDelphine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaveDelphine/gifts).



> Guess who's back  
> Back again  
> Shady's back  
> Tell a friend

Three months was all it took for Cosima to start stealing.  
It was a new development - and, certainly, not a good one - but whilst Cosima knew this, she was almost too intrigued to stop herself.  She wanted to watch what happened, as if she were watching herself on a television screen, miles away.  Disconnected from the consequences, if you will.  
She had grown tired of the sympathy.  Tired of the totally, certainly, genuinely "empathetic" glances thrown her way.  Tired of the _people_  she was supposed to love.  
_Can't I have one day where I don't have a dead girlfriend?_  
She didn't mean to make it all about herself, not _really_ , but it made it hard to move on when people kept pinning you down and linking you to, reminding you of, the one thing that made you feel more alive than you ever really could be.  More alive than you would be in just a matter of years.  
Three months after Delphine's disappearance (and yes, most likely her death), Cosima had been walking aimlessly around town, her mind not really connecting her to anything in particular.  She sort of... drifted... as if she were on a kind of smoothly gliding skateboard.  
She ended up in a bookshop.  She knew that from the smell that permeated the air.  She thought she'd been here before.  It didn't matter.   
One foot treading in front of the other, she stopped in front of a shelf, finding there was no further floor for her feet to eat up.   
She raised her head in mild interest.  
"Copenhagen", she read under her breath.   _Hmm._  
Her eyes flicked slightly to the right.  "Djibouti City.  Where is that?"  Her arm reached up without consent and picked it up, flicking through.  "Africa!  Who knew?" she murmured, raising her eyebrows and nodding her head a little.   
Shuffling along, her eyes caught another book.  "Liechtenstein...  New Zealand..."  Cosima moved down the shelf, propelled by some power in these location names, reading them out in a small whisper as she did.   
She left with a guide book to Austria.  She didn't know why, but it had found its way into her pocket, and she had left without paying for it.  She'd never stolen a book before.  It made her feel ever so slightly giddy - or, as giddy as one can feel, when one is beyond miserable.  
When she went back, she left with a little South Korea book.  
The next time, it was Turkey.  
Before she really knew what had happened she already had seven on her desk back at home.  Sarah had been kind enough not to ask.  
Unable to pin a finger on why it was she was doing it, Cosima was content to let herself continue it.  She read each of the guides cover to cover, even though she didn't - wouldn't ever - have the money to travel to _any_  of these places, but maybe she dreamed she would; secretly tucking away itineraries for each and every place in the back of her mind, waiting.  
Maybe that's what it was - plain old escapism.  Just with a sprinkling of unlawful flair.  An... eccentricity... beyond what she should have allowed.  
Whether the booksellers knew or not, she wasn't entirely sure, but they never said anything. 

Sarah put a stop to it though, as she always did.  
Having finally questioned why anyone would need a book on Russia because "who the fuck's going there right now", Cosima had attempted to defend herself, but to no avail.  When Sarah insisted she take them back because "you're not helping yourself with this moonin' about and dreamin' of places you'll be killed in", Cosima had insisted she couldn't return them.   
When Sarah learnt they were stolen, Cosima saw shame in her sister's eyes, directed at her, for the first time.  
Led like a disciplined child by her sister into the bookshop, carrying the evidence of her crimes, she was forced to explain to the fellow behind the till that the books _were_ from that shop and they had been stolen - "say it again," - no, sorry, that _she_  had stolen them.   
Bemused, the cashier had taken the books back, but didn't seem to know what to do with them.  
Begrudgingly, Cosima had walked out of that bookshop, the ties she had made to those books feeling threatened by leaving them behind, like losing the hand of a friend in a crowded street.  
She had aplogised to Sarah as they made their way back home, but her sister had brushed her off, as if she were not willing to take credit for having made Cosima do the right thing.  
A week later, Cosima was watching a boring show as she nibbled on her dinner on the sofa alongside Kira and Felix, with Sarah plonked on the separate armchair.   
She made to go to bed, no longer hungry, but having left her plate on the side, she turned and nearly bumped into Sarah, who had a hand behind her back.  Cosima waited for her to say something, but all she did was reveal what she had been hiding, handing it to Cosima.  
A Lonely Planet Guide to France.  
Sarah gave a tiny smile.  
"I paid for that one."  Then she turned and went back to watching television, taking the seat Cosima had vacated between her daughter and brother, leaving her dreadlocked sister to chuckle slightly to herself, clutching the only link she had to the woman who gave everything up... for her.

**Author's Note:**

> No matter how many fish in the sea  
> It'll be so empty without me


End file.
